


then leave me in the rain

by julesby10



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Emotional Sex, F/F, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light Angst, Love Confessions, Minor Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long, POV Weiss Schnee, Porn with Feelings, Resolved Sexual Tension, Smut, They Are Okay I Promise, Weiss Schnee Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:40:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27683678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julesby10/pseuds/julesby10
Summary: 'cause this is torturous electricitybetween both of us and this isdangerous 'cause I want you so muchI'd suffer Hell if you'd tell mewhat you'd do to me tonightWeiss has been aware of her feelings for Ruby for a while now. She has never had the heart to tell her, though, how much she wants to kiss her, how much she wants to keep her close. A run in the pouring rain might just be Weiss' liquid luck.(A rewriting of my old fic "non sequitur" where the setting scene is almost identical, but things drastically change later on)
Relationships: Ruby Rose & Weiss Schnee, Ruby Rose/Weiss Schnee
Comments: 11
Kudos: 106





	then leave me in the rain

She comes running the exact moment the clock strikes the hour.

"Good morning!"

Her greeting comes with a bright smile as she stops to catch her breath for a second, hands on her knees. She’s wearing jeans and a deep red hoodie and she makes it work, just as she always does, her worn down sneakers still a bright crimson despite the years.

It happens nearly every morning, she and her sister being _almost_ late. I shake my head with half a smile.

Her skin is vaguely tanned and her silver eyes manage to be joyful even at eight in the morning of a very grey Monday.

In a moment, she straightens up and flashes her pearly white smile at me. It’s still a wonder how she can keep her teeth so clean with the sugar addiction that she has.

“Hi, Weiss. Hey Blake.”

“Hi, Ruby,” I sigh, mirroring her grin because her child-like good mood is just _that_ infectious. Blake simply smiles.

Yang appears behind Ruby without anybody noticing, weirdly stealthy with her biker boots. As she opens the door, she takes her orange helmet off, freeing a cascade of golden locks.

“Heya losers, what’s up?”

Then she takes her sunglasses from her collar and places them on her head like a headband - who wears sunglasses when it’s cloudy? Yang Xiao Long apparently.

She then leans in to exchange a not-too-innocent kiss with Blake, who’s standing beside me. They laugh right after as Yang sneaks an arm around her waist.

“We talked about this, when we’re all together you need to leave space for the Gods between you two. Especially now that we’re in public.”

“Aw, c’mon Weiss, you’re just saying that because you’re salty you don’t have a guy to do it with,” Yang shots back with a wink, kissing a chuckling Blake again for good measure.

I scoff, outraged, but I can feel my cheeks reddening. “Hey!”

“Sorry, sorry my bad,” she laughs. “A girl.”

I want to reply to that but Blake is the one to notice the time and the fact that, by now, all of us are late for our respective classes.

“Guess we’ll see you later?”

Ruby and I share chemistry, and I hear her sigh as she steps inside the classroom. Her hair is still dyed red at the tips from that one time she tried to mix the wrong compound. It’s fading now, but it’s still quite visible. She always manages to show off, one way or the other, which is somewhat endearing.

Professor Goodwitch takes notice of us and writes down our names in the register, looking like she’s deciding which of us to name her headache after. Poor woman, we really never give her a break.

Ruby is putting on her lab coat, quietly, which really isn’t like her. She can be childishly bubbly at times and it can be refreshing. I don’t know what happened these past few days, but she’s been lost in thought more than usual.

Her grey eyes, usually so attentive, are somewhat unfocused, her lips slightly parted as she sighs again.

She’s very beautiful, always has been. Looking at her now, I can’t believe she’s still nineteen. Granted, a two-year age gap is not much, but it was very noticeable a while ago. It took a lot of adjusting when she was first moved up to college. She’s grown, a lot. Sometimes she feels older than she actually is.

Her mechanical genius is still there and won’t be going away anytime soon, in any case.

To be honest, I’m lucky she still somewhat struggles with chemistry, otherwise, I would’ve probably been eaten away by jealousy long before now.

I’ve been staring and Ruby notices. She smiles, questioningly as if to ask _is something wrong?_ Nothing’s wrong. I just like looking at her too much for my own good. She’s a hazard to my health, especially considering we’re in a chem lab. I really can’t be distracted by pretty girls.

I smile back and her eyes seem to soften. 

* * *

We’re the last ones to get out of the building, Yang and Blake already long gone. I don’t want to know what they’re doing at Blake’s place, even though, deep down, I know too well.

Ruby, standing beside me, is watching the raindrops fall and crash on the ground. The sound of pouring rain permeates the air, a roar that still surprises me with its power. You'd think drops would make less noise.

“What now? Do you have an umbrella?”

She shakes her head, not looking at me, but up at the sky, still.

“Mh, I don’t either. You can come to my place if you want. It’s closer and there’s no one home.”

I wish the need to add that last bit didn’t come from the fact that my family is what it is. I wish it came with a suggestion, one that might be there if Yang made the same proposition to Blake. For me it just means my father won’t be there to yell at me, my brother won’t be there to taunt me and my mother… she’s just never there. Winter hasn't been there for far too long.

Ruby sighs and looks at me with her silver eyes. It’s like looking right at the plumbeous sky above us.

“Okay.”

She then moves so fast that I can barely realize. She sprints into the rain laughing like the child she still is at heart.

“Race you!” she calls back, her voice echoing through the curtain of water.

“Ruby Rose! You insufferable little brat!”

We run under the pouring rain, she carefree and happy while I chase her, trying to avoid stepping into the puddles scattered all over the yard. I’m trying to keep up to the best of my abilities, and honestly, I’m not doing too bad, but she’s been in the track team since she was six and won every single competition she entered, I have no chance of actually catching up to her, even without water pouring in buckets on me and almost blinding me.

When I get to the front door, Ruby’s already sitting on the steps leading to the entrance, now protected by the sloping roof overhead, smiling smugly.

"I won!"

I roll my eyes at her enthusiasm. “Heavens, do I hate you when you do that,” I mumble as I look for the keys with freezing hands. Did I put them in my pocket or in my bag?

She giggles, cheeks red from the effort and the cold, her hair sticking to her forehead. “Ah, but you loved it, didn’t you?”

I pause. I’m drenched in rain and sweat, still trying to catch my breath and calm a racing heart. Honestly? It feels good to get my blood pumping.

My lack of an answer leads Ruby into thinking she’s right, I did love it. I kind of _did_ , but I have a reputation to uphold. I also don’t want to give her the satisfaction.

“Gotcha! You really had fun!”

I just smile and shake my head as I open the front door with a click. I don’t expect it, I never do, but Ruby hugs me from behind before I can step inside. More like tackles, since I almost lose my balance.

Okay, maybe my heart is racing because of something more than just the run. I can hear her giggle over my shoulder, the vibrations from her chest reverberating down my back in shivers. One of her hands is right above my heart, her thumb brushing my collarbone.

“Your heart is beating so fast, Weiss.”

Gently, there is no mockery behind her words, just a smile. Her weight on me is comforting, like a warm blanket in the middle of winter.

I don’t care that we’re dripping water all over the entrance, the marble floor won’t be offended anyway. But it’s starting to get cold and any atmosphere is shattered by Ruby sneezing. I sigh.

“Okay, off with your shoes, we both need to dry off.”

She just laughs and breaks off the hug. “Yes ma’am.”

I miss the warmth.

My house has always been cold, maybe due to the large rooms, maybe due to the sheer amount of stone used, maybe because it’s always empty, but her presence is making it feel a little more like home.

Leading us both to the upper floor takes enough time to stop feeling my feet. The weather rarely bothers me, but I can feel my bones sticky with water and only a scorching shower can take that feeling away.

There are family pictures and paintings lining the walls and I doubt I’ll ever get used to them and their blank stares. Winter’s graduation from Atlas Military Academy, me singing on a stage, Whitley’s first day of school, my father in front of the main building of the company. It’s amazing how in each and every single picture none of us is smiling. The only depiction of my mother is the dull family portrait looming over the staircase.

“I always forget just how big your house is, you know?”

_Big and hollow._

I turn around to face Ruby when we’re upstairs, half shrugging. I really have no answer to give.

“I’m guessing you’d like a shower just as much as I do, so you know where the bathroom is, towels are in the cabinet on the left.”

She smiles softly. “Are you sure you don’t want to go first? You’re freezing,” she says taking my hand in hers. Admittedly, I am. I could stay right here though, with her hands holding mine and I’d be perfectly content.

But I shake my head. “It’s okay Ruby, go ahead, you’re the guest. There’s another bathroom down the hall and the heating is on anyway. I promise I won’t freeze to death,” I laugh and run a hand through her damp hair.

She hesitates, seems to want to lean into my touch, but she rolls her eyes and sighs instead. “Okay, _mom_. Thank you though, seriously.”

“No problem, wouldn’t want you to catch a cold. I’ll leave some clean clothes you can change into on my bed, okay?”

I feel like the pink on her cheeks is not completely due to the cold, but she nods and disappears into the third door on my left. Before closing it behind her, she pops back up and waves with a silly smile on her face.

I laugh and wave back as she sneezes again, then gets in for good. 

I am aware of the smile glued to my lips, but trying to fight it off won’t work. It never works when Ruby’s involved.

I go to my room, which is a little colder than usual as if to remind me what’s waiting for me as soon as she’ll be gone.

I really don’t want to think about it, life is so much nicer when I forget what’s at home and I’m with her, life is warmer, it’s bright colours and not just a palette of depressing whites and blues.

It’s soft reds and black and comfort and the calm of a fireplace, not the cutting chill of glass on skin, not sharp words thrown at me with the intention to hurt.

I start looking through my things for anything that could fit her since her shoulders are much broader than mine. Finally, after a while of digging around, I find a blue oversized hoodie hidden in the back of a drawer and a pair of white sweatpants that have always been too big on me. I don’t remember if they were a sort of hand me down from Winter. It doesn’t really matter.

I leave everything on the edge of the bed and take my own dry clothes with me to the other bathroom, locking the door behind me. Not that there’s anyone to keep out.

Peeling off wet fabric from my skin will always remain one of the most disgusting feelings in the world. Thankfully, the scalding water takes the ice out of my bones in seconds.

It’s relieving like finally coming up for air after being underwater. So I stay there, just trying to take the warmth and make it mine. I wonder if I’m trying to do the same with Ruby, keeping her close because she makes me _feel_. Less lonely, less broken, almost whole. She seems so willing to give me so much of herself.

I wash my hair, taking my time, slowly brushing my fingers on my scalp. It’s very soothing, even though taking care of hair this long has always been a hassle.

I guess I only kept it this way because I knew my father would probably disown me on the spot if I ever cut it short. 

_‘A proper lady has long hair and wears dresses, don’t be ridiculous.’_

I now _hate_ dresses and I don’t really hate long hair, but I have considered chopping it all off more than once. It’s also very impractical in a lab.

I wonder if Ruby likes it.

I wonder if Ruby likes _any_ part of me.

There is so much to not like, and the foggy mirror in front of me is certainly not forgiving.

My collarbones stick out way too much, I can count my ribs and there is nothing impressive in the chest department. My hip bones are sharp and I have no curves.

It’s not even that I’m thin, I’m _scrawny_.

I trace the edges of my scars, the ones I can see and the ones I can’t, feeling the ups and downs of skin that refused to heal properly. On the back of my neck, on my shoulders and arms. The only one that’s visible to anyone cuts through my left eye. I’m glad I still have my sight, if anything.

But the word still rings clear in my head, ‘ _unsightly_ ’.

And, let’s be honest, there is not much to make up for it in personality. I’ve hurt people, I’ve hurt our friends. I’d made my personality jagged edges so that I couldn’t be hurt myself, but I regret that so much now. Some of it I managed to smooth out, but there is still so much to do. I’m not a good person, not really, but Ruby is. She always tried to make it through the bush of thorns that was my attitude and she managed. I love her for that.

I love that she cares enough about me to try.

I sigh and shut the water. I don’t want to keep her waiting too long.

When I cross the threshold to my room, finally dressed and patting my hair with a towel, Ruby is slipping the hoodie over her head, her midriff still completely exposed.

I bite my tongue, but I can still feel my cheeks flush. I hope that gets pinned on the boiling shower I just got out of.

“Hey Weiss, fancy seeing you here,” she smiles. It’s cute because her hair is mostly dry, but it’s so messy she looks like she just came out of a tumble dryer.

“It’s my room you dolt,” I laugh. “And please let me fix your hair.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” she asks, bringing a hand to her head. The hoodie I gave her fits, but if the straining fabric around her bicep tells me anything, it’s a tad snug.

“You look like a dog who barely tried to dry off. Here.”

I run both my hands through her hair, shaking my head. She smiles a half-smile that I’m pretty sure she doesn’t realize is extremely attractive and I try to will the blood away from my face, but with poor results. I focus instead on keeping my balance as I need to get on my tiptoes to reach all the way back.

“When did you get this tall?”

She shrugs, smiling smugly. “I’m not that much taller than you, you’re just not wearing your heels, _shorty._ ”

“Ruby Rose, do you realize how disrespectful that is? And I was being so nice to you.”

I am scolding her, but she knows I’m kidding because of the smile that’s fighting its way on my lips. For good measure, I grip a fistful of the hair at the back of her head and pull, just slightly, enough for her to feel it, but not enough to hurt.

She’d started to laugh, but she inhales sharply through her nose and I swear her eyes dart to my lips for a split second.

We are _very_ close.

_You’re getting too into it, Weiss._

I step back, forcing a laugh that I don’t fully have in me. “Now, it’s _my_ hair that needs fixing, if you’ll excuse me.”

I reach for the vanity, towel still on my shoulders and heart almost beating out of my chest. _Breathe, Weiss._

That was risky. So I reach for the conditioner to try and distract myself by losing my thoughts in boring manual labour.

Ruby clears her throat and I see her approaching in the mirror. I hate that she manages to look good in baggy pants and a hoodie, I probably look like a sack of potatoes.

“Do you need any help? It looks like it would take a lot of time.”

I look at her in the mirror. She has her hands in her pockets and is trying to not look at me. Her feet seem to be particularly interesting. “It’s really boring, do you really want to go through that?”

She shrugs, almost sheepish, tilting her head in that particular way that makes her look like a puppy. “I mean, you helped me. And you know I love your hair.”

_She’s blushing._

I bite my lip and sigh for the umpteenth time. There’s no harm in it, right?

“Okay, go ahead.” I smile at her in the mirror. “You just need to put the conditioner in and brush it, I’ll do the drying later.”

Her eyes are sparkling when she smiles.

The room is filled with silence for a while as she gently runs her fingers through my impossibly long hair. It’s cute how she has her tongue between her lips. I don’t think she knows she does that.

She focuses so much sometimes she shuts the whole world out, so she doesn’t notice me staring at her, her still messy hair, the silver of her eyes, her thin lips.

The way her hands are so careful not to pull my hair, the attention she’s putting into every movement, how her nails scratch my scalp but never too hard, tell me she’s taking her time to do things right. She’s probably used to this. Her hair is short and kind of spiky but Yang and her mane surely are no strangers to hair-care routines.

My heart jumps in my throat when she lifts her head and her reflection smiles brightly at me from the mirror. I think she caught me staring, because the corners of her lips lift up a bit more, a certain spark in the grey of her irises, complicity.

“This is actually fun, you know?”

I scoff. “Trust me, it wouldn’t be so fun if you had to do it for more than ten years.”

She doesn’t actually answer, she just hums and, just when I think I can’t bear to have her look into my eyes any longer, her gaze drops, contemplating the white locks she still has in hand. She kisses the top of my head.

“Still, hair this beautiful is worth the work, isn’t it?”

It all feels so… _loving._

She moves and encircles my shoulders, similar to how she’d hugged me at the door. She’s so much warmer now and my heart, if possible, is beating faster.

“Ruby?”

It gets out more hesitant that I’d like, but what am I supposed to do?

“Mh?”

She’s silent, eyes closed, face buried in the crook of my neck. I can feel her breath, her lips barely on my skin, and I don’t know if the heartbeat I hear now is hers or mine.

She laughs self-deprecatingly before I can panic any more. “Sorry, I just felt the need to. Ignore me.”

_Don’t let her slip away._

She moves, but before she can actually get far, I turn just enough to catch her lips.

It’s the simplest of kisses, chaste and innocent, barely a brush. I can smell my shampoo on her, but she still tastes like roses.

When we part, I’m gripping the back of my chair so hard I know my knuckles are turning white. It feels like my body is made of springs, charged and ready to uncoil.

“I…” Ruby takes a shaky breath but no other sound escapes her lips.

_Great, you scared her away. What were you thinking?_

It feels like the air in this room is not enough to feed my lungs. “I’m sorry, I-” I start, but the words I was planning to say die in my mouth when Ruby bends down again to kiss me.

It’s not as innocent, this time around. She presses into me, her mouth opening slightly, her hand lifting up to cup my jaw, tugging me towards her almost desperately, but always gently. For a second she’s kissing me and I’m not kissing back.

Then I relent and melt into the contact, letting out a sigh because this feels like home. The exploring way her tongue is moving against mine, mapping, committing to memory, how her calloused fingers rest on my skin, steady but not forceful.

It dawns on me now, as if part of me had refused to acknowledge it before. Ruby will never hurt me.

A sob tries to climb up my throat, but I swallow it down, put the sadness and the self-pity back on the dusty shelf where they belong. Instead, I push, up, against Ruby, against the warmth. I’ve been holding back and who knew release would feel this good.

She’s hard to reach in the position we’re in, so I just get up, turning around to lean fully into her. I don’t dare break the kiss because I’m afraid that I’ll forget how to breathe then.

As her arms slip around my waist and mine circle her shoulders, I feel our bodies slot into place like puzzle pieces. When my hand ends up tangled in her hair again she pulls me in, hips knocking together, but it’s not enough yet.

Closing in means reaching up, on my toes, just to try and catch that one spark that ignited all of this. Whatever this is.

Hoping that, if I can catch it and put it in a jar, it will stay with me, hoping that it’s hiding on the edge of her teeth or the curve of her smile so that it’s easier to find.

Her touch is sensual without being indecent when her palms slide over the curve of my hips. Swiftly, as if I weighed nothing at all, she grips the back of my thighs and lifts. Even through the fabric, the contact is fire against my skin and I wonder who’s burning up between the two of us.

I’m going up, up, up on a rollercoaster that seems to know no descent.

Whatever semblance of restraint I ever had fades like the shadows at dawn when Ruby catches my bottom lip and _bites_. Not hard enough to draw blood, but close.

I moan into her mouth, my hands tightening their grip into her hair. I barely notice when she places me on the vanity.

Now her hands are on my back, stroking under the hem of my hoodie, rough fingers drawing aimless circles that I want to get lost into. It’s like molten lava is flowing through my veins, instead of blood.

Oh, I could drag this on for ages.

When we break away, Ruby’s eyes stay unfocused for another moment, our lips barely apart, her breath still on my lips.

A second later, she jumps back as if electrocuted, one step, then another.

I still need to re-learn how to breathe, I feel cold again now that she’s not pressed against me anymore. I sigh, letting my arms fall in my lap. I don’t bother getting off the vanity since, apparently, I’m light enough not to damage it.

Ruby has stepped further away and _oh_ I’ve never been more afraid of losing anything in my life. She’s not even looking at me.

She turns around, lets her hands fall in and out of her pockets, flexes her long fingers as if she wanted to move but had no idea how. She tries to crack her knuckles, but there is nothing to crack, so she ends up toying with them.

The look she gives me tells me she’s just as nervous as I am, if not more. Was that her first kiss? Did I take that from her? Is that it? But she kissed me too.

 _Please come back,_ is what I actually want to say, but I look at the floor instead. I just need to say something else, since, if there is one thing that I’ve learned, is that silence is rarely the way. 

“We should probably... talk about it.”

My voice comes out as small as I feel, but Ruby almost looks startled and I have no idea how to feel about _that_. I have no idea how to feel about a lot of things.

She heaves a sigh and scratches her nape. “Yeah, we should.”

When I get down from my perch I see her eyes following me, as I get to the door and lock it unceremoniously. I don’t want to be heard as much as I don’t want to be seen.

She has questions and I wonder if she knows her eyes always betray whatever semblance of a poker face she tries to put on.

I get back to my post, a safe enough distance between us for now, forcing myself to lean on the edge of the vanity instead of just walking right back into her arms.

“The house may seem empty, but… my mother is always lurking somewhere, I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

Her eyes widen at the admission. I must say, I never really talk about my parents much, so her surprise is more than legitimate. She knows father is kind of an asshole - understatement of the fucking century - but mother has never really been a topic of conversation. I mean, her bottles keep her occupied enough that there really isn’t much to talk about.

I’m clenching my jaw so hard I’m sure any more pressure will crack my teeth.

Gods. I’m guessing I should actually tell Ruby about how I feel now. They’re three words, and they’re the heaviest I’ve ever tried to say.

_They’re just words, breathe._

I open my mouth, but Ruby rambles on before I can even try and put a coherent sentence together.

“I- It’s been a while since- I mean, no, you’re- _beautiful_ and I- _swear_ I’m fine with just friendship, but I- think I’m in love with you.”

The pause that follows lasts aeons. In those big eyes of hers, I see my own fear reflected, the terrifying prospect of not being enough for the person you love.

Relief is, partly, what I’m feeling, but it still reads like a fever dream, as if I’d just imagined her words, wished to hear them so hard that they materialized right there.

“You love me?” and even I can hear how dumb I sound, frozen in place as I am.

Ruby throws her head back, brings both her hands to her face. She’s trying to hide her blush, but her ears are red. She lets out a sound that’s half a sigh and half a laugh.

“Yes. Yes, Weiss, I love you.”

And there it is, warmth. It’s not hers this time, I can feel it in my chest, small and hesitant, a newborn star. I didn’t find it, she gave it to me.

I feel the need to move, just _do_ something. She deserves to hear it back, she deserves to know how happy she makes me.

I close the distance between us, raise both my hands to move hers. I want her to look at me.

“Ruby? Hey.”

We’re back at the start, standing in front of each other, inches apart and on the verge of _something_.

Up, again, I’ll have to get used to it.

I kiss the corner of her mouth softly, for just a second.

“I love you too.”

It feels like a promise, uttered in a single breath. I desperately hope it’s enough. Maybe I should say more, but there are no words to describe the way I’m feeling.

She laughs in disbelief, her arms dropping to her sides.

“So, we’re... “ she vaguely gestures between us as a grin makes its way on her face. “Doing this?”

“Yes, God, if you want, if you’ll let me.”

Ruby’s hands shake a little when she places my palms on her cheeks.

“I’d let you do anything you want,” she whispers.

That smile. I would do the impossible to keep seeing her smile. Bright, unfaltering, as if the world couldn’t even dream to touch her as long as she smiles.

She’s the one who leans down this time, but it’s not for a kiss. 

Her arms go around my shoulders, engulfing me in that warmth I was so desperately chasing after. My ear pressed to her chest, I can hear her heart pound as if it was trying to escape the confines of her ribcage. Mine is beating just as fast, just as excitedly.

I feel safe here, like I belong, like I, somehow, was always meant to be here. Like _we_ were meant to be here.

Ruby places a kiss on my forehead, careful and loving, her hands gripping the fabric of the hoodie. I lift my head, my hands locking at her nape. And I let myself claim that smile.

It’s slow, steady, instead of hungry and frantic. Her frame is solid, pressed tight against me as if trying to erase every inch that could keep us apart.

 _I’ve got you,_ she’s saying, _you’ve got me._

The atmosphere shifts when Ruby’s palms drift down to my hips and, again, she starts nipping at my lips, sending a shiver down my spine. If that’s how it’s going to be…

Ruby lets out an almost needy whine when I pull her hair, giving me enough leeway to kiss her neck. I have no reason to hold back now.

“Bed?”

She wordlessly nods, untangling herself from the embrace and quickly skipping up the three steps that separate my bed from the rest of the room. She offers me her hand with a flourish, bowing despite the flush on her cheeks.

“Miss Schnee, allow me.”

“Heavens,” I huff out a laugh, fists on my hips. “Are you going to be this insufferable the whole time?”

She lifts her head just enough to take a peek and smirks with confidence that seemingly sprouted out of nowhere but, really, fits her like a glove. She doesn’t rescind her offer.

“Maybe.”

What a tease. I roll my eyes and give no answer. When I’m close enough, though, I plant my palms on her chest and push her, step after step, until the back of her knees hits the frame of the bed and she’s forced to sit.

The idea of that playful gaze of hers being for me and me only, the idea of being the reason why she’s licking her lips with half-lidded eyes, why her heart is beating so fast, makes me dizzy with unadulterated want.

I sit in her lap, kissing her again, her hands pushing under my hoodie. She lets her mouth fall open easily and I taste her for the third time.

Her soft sounds send spikes of pleasure down my back, to the point where I press into her, looking for any kind of friction I can get. When the kiss breaks, we’re both breathing hard, her lips deliciously swollen.

I bend down to bite at her neck and her fingers tighten their grip on my waist. I absolutely want her out of her hoodie, even one layer is too many, so tugging on the fabric seems like as good a way as any to give her a hint. And get a hint she does, because she wastes no time sliding the garment over her head in one swift motion.

I find myself licking my lips, my mouth suddenly _very_ dry.

“What? You didn’t really expect me to put a wet bra back on, right?” she smirks, leaning back.

I take a moment to properly admire just how athletic she is, the rounded muscles of her shoulders blending seamlessly into strong arms, her tensed abs with a very clear v-line disappearing under the waistband of her pants, her chest rising and falling with every breath.

I shake my head. “No, no, it certainly is a… welcome surprise, though.”

I smooth my hands down her front, tracing the faint tan lines around her breasts, almost teasingly. Her breath hitches as my thumb brushes against her nipple, now standing to attention.

She holds my eyes when my hand goes low, lower on her stomach, close but not quite touching. Then I step back, climbing off her lap, and she looks possibly disappointed but hides it well enough.

“Sit further back on the bed,” I ask with a smile.

She doesn’t hesitate and, when I was expecting a witty remark, she obediently moves until her shoulders are to the headboard. Her eyes are bright and attentive, following my every move as I start undressing. 

Hooking both thumbs on the waistband of my pants, I slowly slide the fabric down, past my hips, past my thighs. I’ve never felt my heart beat as fast as it’s doing now as I catch Ruby subtly pressing her legs together in the corner of my eye. I only take a steadying breath before slowly taking off my hoodie.

The teasing _is_ on purpose, there is a sweet satisfaction in knowing that I’m fueling her lust, if only slightly. There is also a part of me that is hesitating, though, because what if she really doesn’t want, what if she thinks I'm disgusting, what if-

I quickly tuck those worries back into the dark corner they come from, where they won’t bother me. Ruby wants this as much as I do, it’s okay.

I crawl towards her, the mattress dipping under my added weight, to place my legs on either side of hers. She exhales sharply, grey eyes flitting over my body, stomach to collarbones and back to my lips.

“You’re… wow. You’re gorgeous and I love you and I’m probably sounding so dumb right now-”

She hasn’t touched me yet, she’s just staring and grinning and I love her. I stop her with a finger on her lips.

“Ruby Rose,” I lean into her, hands sliding to the back of her neck until we’re just a whisper away. “Shut up and kiss me.”

She pauses, her mouth falls open in surprise. “Oh.”

Her features then melt into a happy smile and she murmurs, close and warm. “Gladly.”

Thumbs brushing along my jaw, she presses her lips against mine and it simply feels right. She nips at my lower lip, insistently, until I gasp and her tongue is in my mouth.

It turns very heated very quickly, kickstarting the thrumming under my skin with shocking ease. Ruby moans into the kiss, sugar-sweet and intoxicating.

When she eventually pulls back for air, she wastes no time, one hand on my nape, one down pressing on my ribs in a way that makes me breathless, she traces kisses along my neck, somehow tearing me apart and stitching me back together at the same time.

She latches onto the hollow of my throat, marks my skin as if she was claiming it as hers, teeth closing over sensitive skin. My head falls back with a cry, offering her even more canvas to work with. 

She can make of myself anything she desires.

Though Ruby doesn’t seem to care much for my not-total state of undress, I reach back to quickly unhook my bra, which then gets tossed aside without much thought.

I take her by the chin, pull her to me, and kiss her, urgent and demanding.

“Are you sure we're not going too fast?” she asks when we part, her hands gently fluttering at my hips like butterflies, impatient, yes, but willing to wait, slow, stop.

“I really don't mind fast.”

She’s always been stronger than me, so she has no trouble flipping me over as if I weighed nothing at all. It only takes a thrust of her hips and I’m the one staring up at her as she hovers above me, inches away from my lips.

“Hey,” she whispers conspiratorially, as if she was telling me a secret, just between the two of us.

“Hi, handsome.”

Even if I know it’s useless, I tuck a strand of her rebel hair behind her ear and can’t help but smile when she giggles girlishly.

Ruby, smiling, caresses my face with the back of her knuckles, traces patterns over what I guess is now bruised skin on my neck.

Adjusting her position with a noise of shifting fabric, she leans back enough to not fall on top of me. Then her fingers brush hesitantly on my collarbones, and if she notices the scars peeking out from my back, she doesn’t say.

The kisses she leaves are open-mouthed and hot, over the lines of my ribs, on the underside of my heaving chest, on my stomach.

Her hands are easily cupping my breasts, pads circling around my areolas so lightly that I’ll go crazy if she doesn’t move. “Are they sensitive?” she asks, a kind of excited curiosity that I’ve never seen her wear in the lilt of her voice.

“What kind of question is tha-ah!”

Whatever coherent sentence I wanted to say, melts into a strangled moan as she takes a nipple into her mouth and pinches the other between thumb and forefinger. Red dusts her cheeks in a vaguely embarrassed fashion as she sucks on it, harder than expected, tentatively uses the flat of her tongue to press into me.

She lets me go with a wet noise that leaves me blushing and gasping for air, but doesn’t move the hand that’s still on my breast. 

“I guess that’s my answer,” she murmurs, diving right back. Her lips close around me again, and I squeeze my eyes closed, the sparks behind my eyelids too many to count.

It’s only been a few minutes and she’s giving my chest so much attention I can already feel my hips trying to find friction, pressure, anything that could relieve the rising tension growing in my muscles.

I think she notices, because she slides down my body, touching every inch she meets, kissing where she can, until she’s settled between my legs on her belly.

She rakes her short nails over my hips with enough force to feel it but not enough to bite, her palms massage down my thighs with care. Her hands now on my knees, she draws her touch close, closer until her fingers are at the hem of my underwear. I need her to fuck me before the burning sets me ablaze from the inside out.

“W-Wait,” she yelps. She flinches back and I look down at her with a silent question, startled out of my daze.

“I- conditioner-” she sputters. “My hands aren’t clean. I don’t want to, um,” her cheeks turn pink. “Touch you if my hands aren’t clean.”

“Then don’t use your hands.”

Ruby’s jaw goes slack and her skin instantly flushes darker. Maybe I overdid it a little. I guess being caught in the moment just switched off my brain-to-mouth filter.

She opens and closes her mouth a few times, red flooding down her neck, apparently struggling with words.

I lift my torso up by an inch to look her in the eyes, ready to stop at the drop of a hair. My pleasure isn’t worth her comfort, it’s not a trade I will ever be willing to make. “I’m sorry, that was too forward, we can stop and-”

“That was _so_ hot.”

There’s a kind of awe smiling up at me from the corner of her eyes, but also something dark, unmistakable arousal in her blown pupils. She lowers her head, then, nosing at the fabric in a way that is enough to send a frisson through me.

Fingers pressing into my flesh with urgency, she’s just a breath away now, gently but firmly parting my legs further. She chuckles and I can’t stop a moan at the warmth of her breath on me.

“For the record, I have no idea what I’m doing,” she grins, her teeth shining in the glow of artificial light.

I almost laugh because it’s so _her_. It’s endearing and familiar, but new at the same time. “It’s okay, me neither,” I whisper back, breath heavy.

I stroke my hands through her hair, in a gesture that should feel a lot less innocent than it does. She pushes into the contact with a hum, not unlike a purring cat. A kiss is placed right beneath my navel, then one on the inside of my thigh, but she closes her teeth around the flesh there in a gentle bite, and I feel my anticipation rise.

She eases away the fabric, leaving it hanging at my ankle, and her palms slide back to my upper thighs, keeping my trembling at bay.

She looks at me, eyes warm, in one of the most alluring pictures I could ever paint.

I’m happy to feel helpless if it’s her.

Then she draws the width of her tongue against me, arousal crashing down on me like a wave, settling in knots at the base of my spine, but the grip of her hands on my hips is firm and unrelenting.

It feels a bit like drowning.

I’m no stranger to pleasure, that’s for sure, but it has always been quick, frustrating and so very lonely. Hidden in the dark, a brutal way to merely scratch an itch, because the cold wouldn’t leave me, no matter what I did.

My hands stay tangled in her short hair as my back arches, pulling hard, spurring her on without meaning to. Not that the way she’s sucking on my clit after is in any way unwelcome.

She might be no expert, but she certainly makes up for lack of experience with zeal, in a contact that is loving just as much as it is enthusiastic.

Fire bites at my heels, spreading like embers stroked back to life. I bite down on my knuckles as her tongue slips inside me and back out again, and then goes back up, barely touching. I don’t know if the muffled moans I hear are hers or mine, but it doesn’t matter.

My hands fall back to the bed, fists curling in the sheets trying to find anything that could keep me grounded. I’m sweating and panting, and I’m a rubber band stretched too thin, about to snap.

Just when I’m on the brink of an orgasm-

For a second, she leaves me there, on the very edge and it rips a sound that’s half a scream half a growl from my throat. I’ve never felt so desperate for something. “Ruby!”

She watches, stuck between curiosity and hunger, tongue darting out to clean the sheen from her lips.

“I love your voice, let me hear it, Weiss,” she says. “ _Please_.”

It feels like I’m choking on my own desire. Her voice is rough, warm like hard liquor, and it wraps around me in a blazing embrace, fueling the pulsing between my legs.

Close, closer, but still not there.

The tip of her tongue circles my clit and I know she’s watching, every reaction, every shiver, listening to every sound, seeking to draw them out almost cruelly, until my throat is sore.

And then I break.

That something pulling at the seams of my skin rises and spills over in a deafening silence, heat burning all my nerve endings with the intensity of a collapsing star.

Ruby’s touch is soft and soothing as she slows to a stop, thumbs drawing circles on my flushed skin. I look at her, still panting, eyes heavy, just as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and I take it back. _This_ is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, so much I feel myself twitch again.

Leaving one last kiss on my stomach she comes back up to me.

She presses her forehead to mine, her weight on one arm as the other hand sweetly brushes my bangs aside. Her voice is the only sound I want to hear until the day I die, it hurts to imagine a world where the walls don’t echo her laugh.

“You good? Did I do okay?” she chuckles somewhat bashful.

Hands sore from latching onto the sheets so hard, it takes a moment to loosen my grip. I’m drained, still basking in the cotton-y sensation orgasms always leave behind.

Closing the distance is easy enough, and I kiss her, tasting myself on her tongue. It’s a way of thanking her, reassuring her and a myriad other things I’ll have time to explain properly later. She seems surprised, judging by the hum she lets into my mouth.

The way I cling to her is almost desperate, looking for skin to skin by whatever means possible, legs tangling haphazardly. I push and she gives in, her back landing on the mattress in a controlled movement.

We break apart and I pepper feather-light kisses across her forehead, on her eyes, cheeks, nose, down to her lips, chin, neck. And she laughs, laughs. I could do this for as long as I breathe.

I straddle her hips, hand on her stomach, sure that she would feel how wet I still am if it weren’t for the pants she still has on. I look down at her again because I can’t get enough of everything that she is. “You’re gorgeous.”

I drag my nails between the valley of her breasts, up across her collarbones until I can cup her jaw.

Ruby blushes, shivers, but smiles up at me, biting her lower lip. “So are you.”

Her hands are at my sides, gently stroking up and down over my ribs, tracing every dent. Her eyes are half-lidded, and yes, there’s lust in them, but also the shine of what I would dare call adoration.

She seems content just looking at me, as her smile melts into something soft. She’s not even questioning why I stopped. She doesn't seem to mind.

She lifts a hand to my left cheek, and I lean into the touch as her thumb brushes over my scar, slowly and with purpose. I’m surprised to see her fingers come away wet.

“You’re crying.”

Am I? 

“It’s just- I never thought this would happen.” I lean down to lay on her, my forehead to her shoulder. I choke on a sob. “I’m very, very happy right now.”

She strokes my hair and I remember all the times I cried on this same bed, but she wasn’t here to hold me. She’s warm, though, and she’s here now, as real as she could be under my weight.

There’s quiet then but it’s far from uncomfortable. All I can hear is her heartbeat, so close and still frantic, her breaths tickling my ear. Her fingers are moving idly on my skin, tracing God knows what, writing, drawing. Her touch could make a work of art out of anything, even me.

She presses into my spine and the same liquid heat from before flows into my veins as if it belonged there. Reigniting my spark comes too easy to her.

I push back slightly, enough to free my hands and smooth her hair back. She sighs, heavy and hot.

“Weiss…”

“Your turn now.”

I slide back to kneel between her legs, leaving enough room to tug at the fabric of her pants. She arches for me, helping me in a very practical gesture that is nothing short of erotic.

And then she’s naked before me and she’s a vision.

Her hair is dishevelled, splayed out on the pillow, her lips parted and plump from all the kissing, her arms above her head and she looks like a sculpture carved from marble, a perfect blend of soft curves and sharp edges.

She’s so achingly charming I could start to cry again, were it not for the way she’s trembling, body taut. She wants this just as much as I want her.

It doesn't mean I won’t take my time.

She jumps when my open palms land on the back of her knees, but she lets out a needy moan when I push harder against her muscles tracing the lines of her thighs. Her legs fall open a bit more and _Gods, she’s so wet._

I lick my lips. I could just eat her out right now and give her the release I know she’s craving, but it doesn't seem fair with all the care she’s put into touching me. So I wait.

I drag my nails up over her blushful skin, noticing a few moles scattered around her ribs, kiss them, one by one, closer and further away from where she wants me.

“D-do you have a thing for muscles?” she asks in a hesitant chuckle.

I’m kissing along her v-line slowly, mouth open enough for her to feel it, and her stomach tenses under my touch, hips stuttering. “No, I just have a thing for you.” 

She stumbles against whatever answer she wants to give and I take the opportunity to lick a wet stripe up her abs, which tears a whine from her throat.

Maybe I lied.

There is a special kind of satisfaction in watching her body strain and relax against the bed, seeing the real strength her skin hides beneath even for just one second.

I let my hands trace patterns over her abs, up to her breasts, pressing and pinching and pulling that gets rewarded with sighs and low groans. She may be less sensitive than I am, but she’s far from unaffected.

My palms press on her collarbones, slide along her shoulders, her upper arms, over the clear lines of her muscles, the barely-there shadow of veins on her forearms. She’s squirming and reaching into me as I kiss her, deeper, tongue swiping behind the bite of her teeth.

And then down, down, kissing her jaw, her neck, nipping at her pulse. By this point, her hips are rolling against me so I draw my hand down to between her legs. I might be a bit of a tease, but I’m not cruel.

Fingers skim over her inner thigh, not nearly enough contact, and she arches looking for friction that simply isn’t there.

The way her biceps strain when she’s holding onto the pillow, the desperate whimpers and gasps coming from her lips, the imploring way she’s looking at me, eyes big and pleading. I can’t wait to see her when she comes.

“Weiss-”

She’s close to sobbing when I slide my finger over her slit, parting her gently. My hand gets instantly soaked with her arousal, but I let my touch linger there, brush against her clit, again and again, prodding, rubbing, pressing, until she grinds her hips forward into my palm.

Then I find her entrance, sink my fingers into her with a kiss by her mouth, and they slide in so easily I’m amazed she hasn’t come already. My strokes are slow at first, giving her time to adjust, maybe ask me to slow down, stop if she needs to. But she doesn’t and the only things coming from her mouth are high-pitched moans so I up the pace, burying my fingers knuckle-deep in her and back out again almost frantically.

Both her arms are around my shoulders, holding on tight, as she’s clenching around me almost as frequently as she’s whining next to my ear. I bite at the slope of her neck, tasting salt.

Her voice, the noises she makes because of me, how her body throbs when I curl my fingers inside her or thumb at her clit, it’s inebriating.

She’s close.

A bit of pressure and it’s all it takes to push her off the edge. She’s melting at the tips of my fingers, all tensed muscles and soft moans.

I help her ride her orgasm out, any semblance of rhythm forgotten as her hips thrust up jerkily against my palm, cresting the high until she eases back on the bed with a deep sigh. A whine of loss escapes her when I ease my fingers free.

I keep my dirty hand out of the way as I wipe the beads of perspiration from her forehead. “Good job,” is whispered against her cheekbone, praise, reassurance. I dry the one tear that was trying to spill with a peck on the corner of her eye.

I never expected Ruby to gently take my wrist, and, eyes still closed, draw my fingers into her mouth. My breath catches somewhere in the back of my throat as I watch her pink tongue slide around, lips closing over skin that feels positively ablaze now, gathering any residue of her arousal. She gently kisses each of my knuckles before pressing her lips to my wrist and looking straight through my soul with those silver irises. It’s more than enough to rekindle the fire in my stomach, but it's getting late and Ruby looks like she could fall asleep in seconds. 

So we settle side by side, cuddling in the warmth that still lingers, only half bothering to cover ourselves, a mess of tangled limbs and sweaty bodies.

There's a moment of pause in which everything seems to slide in place and this is, again, where I am, we are meant to exist.

“Good thing you closed the door, huh?” she murmurs between breaths that are still heavy, her lips on my collarbone. “Were you planning this?”

She’s almost laughing, smug and teasing. I slap her lightly on her arm, giggling because she’s trailing her kisses up along my neck and jaw.

“You are so dumb,” I retort, my voice wavering. I’m still so sensitive.

I feel her smile on my skin before she nips at the juncture of my shoulder. “I know.”

I laugh with her. I feel like I’ve never laughed so much, never felt this kind of happiness that seeps from her touch and sticks to me like honey.

A comfortable silence falls between us, my gaze gliding over the line of her shoulders, her side, her hip, her fingers following endless paths on my skin, behind my thighs, over the dent of my hip bone then on my back again, up. She stops.

“Can I?”

She’s smiling calmly, her hand lingering above my shoulders. There is no pity, no judgement in those grey eyes that I so love. No one but me has ever touched those scars. I nod.

Another lapse of silence follows, not awkward, but still charged. Ruby is looking at me, through me, her fingertips like butterflies.

“It was my father.”

There is something big in that admission. ‘I fell’ has always been the phrase to go.

“You didn’t really have to answer a question I didn’t ask,” she whispers. Not accusatory, just matter of fact. We’re close enough that raising our voices more than this seems too disruptive, unnecessary.

“I had the feeling you wanted to know,” I counter, eyes now closed, the palm of my hand on the inside of her arm.

“Fair enough,” she concedes. “But… are you sure you want to tell me? We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

I sigh. My scars are something so personal, so intimate and painful at the same time. It’s not a topic I was ever allowed to disclose to the rest of the world. Winter had not been there to witness it, mother had been but had already stopped caring, Whitley had been too little to remember. 

This is all uncharted territory, so much I can feel a lump forming in my throat. Even when I always told myself it was nothing to cry over, it hurts. It hurts to know that it was done with a purpose when words had not worked, that it was meant to put me in my place the one and only time I tried to deny my father. I was only a child.

Ruby waits, as patiently as ever, in silence, but keeps her touch on me, almost as if she knew how grounding that is. She shifts a few inches closer.

“I was seven. My father wanted me to sing at one of the company’s galas and I refused. We had a fight.”

I swallow, but my throat is starting to hurt and maybe this has had more impact on me than I ever wanted to admit.

“He… he pushed me and I crashed into a glass door. It shattered. There was... _so much blood_ , I-” a mirthless, shaky laugh pushes its way past my lips. “I didn’t know where to look. Some of the wounds needed stitches and he was still yelling at me as if he couldn’t see it.”

I don’t know when exactly I started crying, but the tears are slowly but surely running down the bridge of my nose to crash soundlessly on the pillow.

It’s weird, crying when you’re lying down. As silly as it sounds, it’s an easy thing to focus on. Easier than the rest, anyway.

Ruby’s hand is warm on my back as I nestle into her chest. She’s keeping me together now that I feel so vulnerable.

“Sometimes it feels- it feels like the shards are still there.”

“Shh… ’s all right,” she soothes, caressing my hair. “It’s all right now, breathe.”

I can still taste the iron on my lips, smell the sickly scent that clung to the air.

She brushes her lips on my nose, catching a stray tear, she wipes the trails away with her thumbs, bringing my head to the dark safety of the crook of her neck.

It takes a while.

“Thank you for telling me,” she whispers as soon as she feels my breathing return to normal.

“Sorry, I know it’s unpleasant-”

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault it happened.”

She slightly pulls out of the embrace to look me in the eyes, her palm going to my cheek. Her expression softens once more. “Besides, we all have burdens. I’m just glad you choose to share part of yours with me. Thank you for trusting me.”

“Thank you for being here, Ruby.”

She smiles, eyes glossy. “Always, Weiss.”

She leans in, placing a kiss on my forehead.

“You didn’t dry your hair in the end,” she notices with a small smile, almost surprised, moving my bangs out of my eyes.

I laugh, still watery and not all there, but it’s something. I kiss her on the lips again.

“And whose fault do you think that is?”

She laughs back, gripping my waist and moving me on top of her, and I’m so, _so happy_ to be here.

**Author's Note:**

> Why did I think writing this in the present tense and a first-person pov was a good idea? I wanted to stay close to how I'd imagined this scene going back in 2016, but boy did I make myself work for it. Phew.
> 
> I certainly hope this came out better than its predecessor because, as much I love and cherish "non sequitur" I can now see it's bad, like, teenage virgin me writing smut bad, so yeah. I won't be deleting "non sequitur" but I HAD to rework it because I always cringe at the mention of it (kudos are always very welcome, but that fic is... meh, I thank you if you liked it and I still appreciate the passion I put into it at the time, it will always be something of mine).
> 
> The two songs in the summary are "Landfill" - Daughter and "Dinner and Diatribes" - Hozier.


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